


An Impromptu Confession

by skylinehorizon



Series: Best Friends 'verse [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylinehorizon/pseuds/skylinehorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean really shouldn't be leaving these kinds of magazines lying around, and Sam should really stop sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Or, the one where Sam accidentally sees something he shouldn't, and Dean comes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Impromptu Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Dean is fifteen years old in this instalment, so it's a few years earlier than my latest instalment. As of posting this, it comes after 'A little bit lost, a little bit loved' and before 'By The Lake'.

If there’s one thing Dean’s good at, it’s stealing - “It’s called _borrowing_ , Sam,” - Sam’s things and never putting them back again. It’s a constant game of ‘where did Dean put that thing I need?’, and more often than not it will either be shoved on a shelf in Dean’s room in between the textbooks he never uses or under his bed. Sam’s used to this, and he’s learnt how to pick his battles. Instead of complaining it’s a lot easier to just go and retrieve whatever it is Dean has stolen and it’s not like Dean ever notices anyway.

But as soon as he steps into Dean’s empty bedroom and spots the magazine on the bed, Sam thinks his method of retrieving his stolen stuff is very bad, and needs an immediate rethink. From now on Dean’s bedroom is off-limits, out of bounds, Mordor, thou shalt not enter.

The magazine on the bed features a muscular, shirtless model, chest tanned and shining with oil, or grease, or _something_. He’s wearing shiny black boxers, a black cape and a matching bow-tie, and not much else. He’s dark and moody and handsome, and there’s a line of writing across his six-pack that reads: YOUR A-Z GUIDE OF GAY SUPERHEROES, followed by two cover lines that read HOT TATTOOS AND WHAT THEY MEAN and 5 TIPS TO GIVING GREAT BLOWJOBS.

Sam has to read that cover line again, and once more, before he realizes what he’s looking at. Sam’s not homophobic - he doesn’t care about that sort of stuff, and it’s not like he hasn’t had to suffer Dean making goo-goo eyes at Cas and Dr. Sexy M.D. for _years_ \- but that dude is pretty naked and Dean is apparently reading about _blowjobs_. And that magazine has been left for everyone to see, just left on his bed, and if it had been anyone but Sam walking into Dean’s bedroom then Dean would probably have a lot of explaining to do.

But as it is, it’s Sam, and Sam’s a great brother, and none of this is that surprising. This is a good lesson in never, ever walking into Dean’s bedroom without asking again. He’s just about to walk out of there and pretend this never happened when he turns around and sees Dean standing in the doorway, pale as a statue, his eyes wide and mouth gaping.

*

 _Fuck_.

On Dean’s gravestone it will read, ‘Here lies Dean Winchester; loving son, awesome brother, closet homosexual; died painfully of mortification.’

If he plays it cool, maybe they can pretend this never happened, or Dean can say it’s Cas’ or something, which - what’s Dean _thinking_ , that won’t fucking work - or maybe he can blame it on Jo or--

Sam takes a breath, and so begins his speech that Dean wants to nip in the bud before it even gets started, “Dean, I just want to say--“

“No.”

But Sam’s wearing that ‘I want to talk about our feelings’ expression, and nope, nope, _nope_ , Dean is out of here.

“Dean, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“Shut up, Sam. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“I don’t care, okay? You’re my brother, and if you like guys that’s fine, and if you like girls that’s fine, and just because I was _wondering_ doesn’t mean--”

“Don’t,” Dean says, in a warning tone that ends up sounding more like pleading. “Don’t ask me about this.”

Sam’s doing his own pleading with his puppy eyes and stupid, pouty lips and Dean wants to hate him, but his anger is melting away, and it’s replaced by a 50% sense of defeat with 40% uncertainty and the rest relief. “I wasn’t going to ask you. I was going to just let you tell me, you know? I just want to say, I don’t care. I don’t care if you like guys. You’re my big brother. It doesn’t change anything.”

Dean runs a hand over his face and sighs. This is not something he wants to explain about himself. Not now, not ever. He figures if he continues to brush this off Sam will just stare at him for weeks with that _pained_ look like Dean’s a fucking wounded animal, so it’s better to get this done and dusted and dealt with as soon as possible.

“Look. It’s not as black and white as that. I don’t... I’m not gay, okay?”

Sam looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

“I saw the magazines, Dean. I mean, I didn’t look at them, but it’s not like I can’t tell--”

Dean takes a breath to steady himself and interrupts his pain in the ass kid brother before he makes this even more awkward. “What I’m saying, man, is that it’s not as clear-cut as that. I’m just...” Dean searches around in his mind for anything he can say to get the point across, but there’s no label he can think of that really fits just right. He just wanted to see what those skin mags were like, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with experimenting, right?

“I’m just seeing what they’re like,” Dean says, finally settling on something that doesn’t solidify his sexuality and doesn’t go as far as admitting he’s confused. Because he’s not, he knows he’s not straight. But he’s -- curious.

“Gay magazines? You just wanted to see what they were like?”

“Jesus, Sam. Yes, I wanted to see what they were like.”

“Oh, okay.” Dean appreciates the fact that Sam at least has the decency to now look a little bit embarrassed.

There’s an awkward pause before Dean asks, “You’re not gonna... tell mom or dad are you?”

“No. ‘Course not. And it’s not like I didn’t really guess about any of this anyway.”

Dean stares long and hard at Sam, and feels his heartbeat pick up as tries to catalogue everything - anything - that could have suggested that. Nothing immediately comes to mind and he wonders if maybe there are signs that are clear to everyone else except him. “You... what?”

“Y’know, Cas.”

Dean’s mind goes completely blank at that, because it definitely wasn’t what he was expecting Sam to say. The fact that Cas likes guys isn’t a huge secret or anything, but it’s not something they’ve ever actually talked about.

Sam rolls his eyes and looks like he wants to say something. He opens his mouth to speak but then softly shuts it again and gives a small smile. “Never mind.”

“Right,” Dean says slowly. “Sure, Sammy. Whatever.” The relief is palpable in his mouth, in his bones, and as the anxiety leaves him he just feels tired. “Why don’t we just... Do you wanna go get some pizza?”

Sam accepts the subject change and smiles, nodding at him, and it’s over as easy as that. 

"I'll meet you downstairs," Dean says, and Sam takes the cue to leave, giving Dean a chance to shove the magazine as deep within his wardrobe as it will go.

*

The pizza place is busy tonight, mostly groups of friends and couples sharing pizzas, the stereo piping out a shitty new pop song that Dean’s sure he’s heard on the radio but has made the conscious effort of not listening to.

Sam and Dean take a table by the window and share a large pepperoni pizza between them. It’s nice doing this - they haven’t spent as much time together, recently. Sam has been hanging with his own friends more now, and Dean spends most of his time with Cas and Jo. He’s missed this.

“So, um, about earlier,” Sam says, without taking his eyes off of him. Sam has never been like Dean, and isn’t one to shy away from difficult conversations, but he’s also great at hashing shit out over and over again, even when the topic is dead. Still, Sam is Dean’s brother, and younger than him, and Dean guesses this is part of Sam’s process of coming to terms with it, or whatever. “Just so I don’t mislabel you, or offend you. Have you -- is gay the right word? Or, like, bisexual? Or no label?”

“I’m not calling myself gay just yet,” Dean says, choosing his words carefully. “I guess I don’t have a _label_ yet. But I, uh, do. You, know. Like guys.”

“You know, there’s a GSA at the high school,” Sam says, thoughtfully, but Dean can see the excitement in his eyes, even if it’s not in his voice. It’s the same excited look he’s had since he was a kid, when he’d reach his grubby, toddler hands towards an ice cream or reach out to grab Dean’s face, his hair. And now, it’s the look he gets when talking about Dean’s issues, apparently. The freak. “You should go.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Lots of high schools have them, Dean. And just because I’m not on the LGBT spectrum doesn’t mean I don’t know that.”

“LG-what?”

Sam stares at him sadly, and says, “You really should go."

“Shut up,” Dean says, feeling embarrassed all over again. “I don’t need to go to some support group where we all cry about how our families don’t accept us and we eat rainbow cake.”

“You know, we don’t have to talk about this,” Sam says, with a shrug. “If you don’t want to.”

Dean looks at him in disbelief. “Oh, _now_ you say that?”

“I’m serious. It’s just -- I have one last question. Are you going to tell mom and dad?”

Internally it feels like his heart has shot up to his throat and his lungs have called it quits, but he tries to go for casual, and gives a little shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, no. Only if…”

He trails off, uncomfortable, and picks up a slice of pizza and takes a huge bite. Sam continues to stare at him, his eyebrows raised. Sam never lets him get off that easy.  “Only if what?”

“Only if I find the, uh. Occassion to. Only if I get, y’know. A boyfriend.”

He can feel his cheeks grow hot and he stuffs the rest of the pizza slice in his mouth to stop himself having to say anything else.

“Okay,” Sam says, in no way fazed by Dean’s words. “Just checking so I don’t accidentally tell them. I promise I’ll stop quizzing you now, unless you want to talk about it. Hey, can I get another coke?”

Dean swallows his pizza and nods, and Sam orders some more drinks. Dean takes some relief in the moment and allows himself to feel some happiness in Sam knowing, a little bit of the weight taken from his shoulders. There’s only Cas and the rest of his family and the rest of his friends to tell now, but it’s a start. It’s a start, and for now, that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> A few apologies are in order:
> 
> 1\. I'm sorry this series hasn't been updated in forever, but I haven't abandoned it. I have plans, and I'm writing more instalments. 
> 
> 2\. I apologise for the fact there was no Cas in this instalment, but this series has grown into something larger than it was ever supposed to be, and as a result I feel like there's leeway to explore both Dean and Cas in different ways other than their relationship to each other. For the large majority of the time though, the instalments will feature Dean and Cas, so don't think I'm abandoning that, as the series is Dean/Cas (or will be, when these boys get themselves together). 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, and sorry again for the many months since the last part!


End file.
